


Gonna Let It Burn

by freudensteins_monster



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: AU prompt, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Dragon Loki, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Logyn - Freeform, Mythical Creature AU, Princess Sigyn, Tumblr: otpprompts, dragon and his princess, humanish dragon, not one of the dozen fics i have in progress, otp, something i wrote today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4066165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tall, dark and handsome barista smells of smoke instead of coffee and always calls her princess. That should have been a clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gonna Let It Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Based an a mythological creature AU prompt post on tumblr. I made it about my OTP, because when do I not. It doesn't feature names so feel free to imagine your own otp in there...

[Inspired by this tumblr post...](http://freudensteins-monster.tumblr.com/post/120516939916/mythological-creature-aus)

 

 

“Good morning, princess.”

Oh no. Not him. Anyone but him.

“Um, hi. Hello. Good morning.”

I babble and stammer and blush and he just smiles, blinding me with the brightest, whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. Surely someone who works at a coffee shop should drink coffee and therefore have coffee stained teeth? But no, he’s perfect. And I’m a mess. I fidget with my necklace and his eyes become fixed on me, eyes dark green and almost reptilian in their strangeness.

“Just the usual today, princess?” he growls softly causing my knees to go weak.

“Yes,” I mumble as move closer to the counter, to him, to pay for my coffee.

“On the house, princess. You looked stressed today.”

I want to argue with him about it, tell him I’m not actually stressed, that his presence simply makes me so. But I melt when he speaks to me and I know it’s hopeless, I could never fight him on anything. I fidget with my necklace while I wait and his eyes find mine again. I move my hands from my throat and look anywhere but at him.

“Princess,” he calls a moment later and slides my coffee over to me, coughing slightly as he does so. The smell of smoke permeates the aroma of coffee and I flinch.

“You should quit,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“What was that, princess?” he asks, smirking knowingly as I finally manage to string a sentence together in front of him.

“Smoking. You should quit. It’s no good for you. I saw a patient with lung cancer on my rotation. It was really awful and I’d hate to see you get sick.”

He smiles and I feel myself go bright red. Why can’t control myself around him? Why do I melt?

“Thank you for your concern,” he says, sliding my coffee over to me as his smile grows wider, his perfect teeth mocking me.

I mumble a thank you and flee from his overwhelming presence, embarrassment turning my mind blank and by the time I remember there’s a coffee in my hand it’s gone cold.

** *** **

I can smell her before I see her. Her perfume wafts into the store on the breeze and I breathe deep the scent of rosewater perfume. It reminds me of Turkish Delight and I wonder, not for the first time, if I were to lick her flushed skin if she would taste of it too. She appears in the doorway, the light bouncing off the gold chain around her neck. I clench my teeth and restrain the growl at the back of my throat. She approaches the counter, flustered and demure as she places her order. It is the nature of my kind to covert and hoard that which they desire and when her eyes, brown with flecks of beautiful gold, finally rise to meet mine I struggle to contain my instinct.

_I want her. I want her. I want her. I want her. I want her. I want her. I want her. I want her._

I say, “Of course, princess.” For that is what she is; my princess. Mine. Whether she knows it or not, whether I ever claim her or not, she will always be mine.

My desire fans the flames in my belly and I have to cough to let the heat escape before the fire can. I see her flinch as she smells the smoke and I wait for her to scold me, anything to hear her voice again, she so seldom uses it in my presence.

“There you are, princess,” I say, passing her coffee across the infuriating counter which separates me from that which I desire most.  

She blushes as our fingers touch and leaves a pamphlet on the counter before she runs from the feelings that overwhelm. I smirk at the anti-smoking pamphlet and shove it in my back pocket. I have no need of it but I keep it, I keep everything – every dollar - she has ever handed to me.

I count the seconds until the stores closes and when my shift finally finishes I walk to the hospital to watch over my princess. As night falls I anticipate her appearance like a child might Christmas. Moments after she exits the building I can smell her perfume in the cool night air, but it is tainted with sweat and fear.

** *** **

Footsteps follow me into the car park and I try to convince myself it’s just my imagination, but I know better. An angry voice calls after me and I stifle a whimper as I fumble for my phone. I had treated a battered woman early in my shift and reported her boyfriend to the police, the man in question was currently following me to my car screaming obscenities at me. I spy my car and make a run for it but I know he’s close on my heels. His abusive tirade stops suddenly, the sickening thud of body hitting body echoes through the concrete structure. I turn around and see my would-be assailant sprawled on the ground, my terrifyingly perfect barista standing between us. He holds out his hand and I take it without question as the man pushes himself off the ground, drawing a switchblade from his pocket. The man threatens me in graphic detail and my rescuer bares his perfect teeth, which glint like knives under the flickering lights. His hand grows hot but I soon see that is not the extent of it. A light glows in his chest, growing, moving until his throat is illuminated from within. He roars and plumes of brilliant orange flames shoot forward and envelop the assailant. He screams and flees the scene, leaving behind his smouldering jacket.

My rescuer - my hero, my dragon – avoids looking at me, seemingly ashamed of his actions.

“I’m sorry, princess. I never meant to scare you.”

I almost weep in the face of his vulnerability, and I curse my stupidity. It was never cigarettes that I smelt on him, but something more elemental, more primal. I squeeze his hand, still clasped tightly in my own, and he glances at me with those hypnotic green eyes. I press myself against him and taste the remnants of the flames upon his lips. He is stunned for a split second before wrapping me in his arms, kissing me back with the ferocity of his fiery attack. Heat radiates from every fibre of his being; I could burn alive in his embrace and I don’t care.

** *** **

I watch her as she sleeps; her hair fanned out on the burnished gold sheets, her image reflected in the dozens of mirrors and polished metal surfaces that adorn my lair. Of all the treasures I possess, she is the most precious. I curl around her like the serpent and lick the smooth column of her throat. She doesn’t taste like rosewater, but of sweat and sex and fire and I know will never hunger for anything else. I am her dragon, she is my princess, and I will never let her go.

 

 


End file.
